


The Beginning

by fen_harels_wife



Series: The Birth of a Warlord [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21730213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fen_harels_wife/pseuds/fen_harels_wife
Summary: Before he was a General, before he was a Warlord, Hordak was simply a new clone.
Series: The Birth of a Warlord [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566184
Kudos: 31





	The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble I wanted to share with all you guys.

The vitrine opens, fluids rushing out, another clone coughing and hacking as the respirator pulls out of his throat. The stripe of dark blue hair, plastered against bare skin, marks him as more than a simple servant or soldier.

This one is intended for something greater. He inhales, coughs again, pale blue chest heaving with the effort of his first breaths. Another approaches, white hair and plain uniform marking him as one of the servants caste, helps the new clone stand.

He's shaky, legs more accustomed to floating than standing. But he reaches up, pushing his hair out of his eyes, blinking in the bright, sterile light. As soon as he's steady, the attending clone begins walking. He stumbles a few times, his white haired brother patiently waiting for him to figure out the physical movements.

In a few moments he's figured it out, and the other clone speaks. "Time for indoctrination. You must learn your place in Horde Prime's Empire."

Horde Prime. The name resonates in him, pulling up the dream-image of a man with acid green eyes. Imprints from the vitrine, along with so many other images, telling him how to breathe, to walk, to stand, to speak. 

It tells him he is a copy, a clone of this man, and his purpose is to serve. That it is right, meant to be this way.

As the clone-brother leads him, he lifts his head proudly.


End file.
